


I'm Not Dead Yet

by IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos



Series: Time In A Bottle [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Again, Angst, Arguing, Cancer, Crying, Established Relationship, Fear of Death, Hand Jobs, I Made Myself Cry, I don't know how to tag this, It's Soft, M/M, Married Life, Mentions of Cancer, Neil is dying but not dead, Noah made me do this, Post-Canon, Talking, mentions of dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 18:17:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17565578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos/pseuds/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos
Summary: Neil was diagnosed with lymphoma. The first chemotherapy was successful, but only for some time. Now he's struggling with lymphoma and lung metastases. Neil is dying and he knows it. Andrew wants to wrap him up in cotton wool. But Neil is not dead, yet.





	I'm Not Dead Yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noah/gifts).



> So I don't know what's up with my brain recently but I needed to write this. It's a prequel to The Bottom Of The Deep Blue Sea and Andrew Is Home. This hurts fucking much and I hope you are okay after this. I cried at least three times while I wrote this. Be prepared...  
> As always: If you want to talk about this, hmu on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iknowwhoyouaredamianos)

The morning sun fell through the shutters, patches of light dancing on Neil’s tender frame. Andrew remembered how these early rays of sun always used to turn the soft auburn curls into strings of copper, giving Neil an otherworldly look. None of these copper curls were left these days - the chemotherapy eating its way through Neil’s body, one monster fighting against another in a now too slender body, having lost anyway - and yet Andrew saw nothing but beauty lying next to him, entangled in the orange sheets, eyes closed peacefully.

_Would he look like this when he was dead?_

Neil had insisted on getting colorful sheets since he’d spent several weeks in all-white hospital beds and when could Andrew ever turn Neil down. Neil had used to be a quiet sleeper, never snoring or tossing and turning, but nowadays their bedroom was never really silent anymore, Neil’s breathing labored, wheezing with every single gasp, the oxygen device pumping air into Neil’s corroded lungs.

Andrew’s life had mostly consisted of indifference, a coping mechanism that got him through everything he’d had to endure when he grew up, but now he felt, felt too much for the cachectic body pressed against his chest, always covered in sweat and yet shivering. Neil had managed to erase most of the void that had filled Andrew’s chest for most of his life, a void so huge that Andrew had never thought he’d even reach all this. A career, retirement, a house, cats, a husband, a home - Neil.

On some days he scolded himself for ever thinking that this could have ended like one of the dumb romcoms he hated but Neil somehow liked. That he’d seen himself with this stupid smart mouth sitting on a porch in a porch swing, hair grey and calloused hands still entangled, doing nothing but - living.

None of this would happen and it felt like life was telling him one last time that all he deserved was nothing.

Stirring muscles pulled him back into reality as Neil’s eyes fluttered open, still an icy blue but clearly robbed of their vividness. More and more, they started to look tired, anemic, emphasized by the lines carved into this beautiful freckled face by pain as Neil turned around to rest his head on Andrew’s biceps and look into his eyes.

“Morning,” he muttered hoarsely before his whole body erupted into a wet cough. Andrew reached for the cloth on the nightstand, covering Neil’s mouth and seating him against the headrest so Neil’s rattling coughs were as painless as possible. He’d started coughing blood a few weeks ago - a sign that his lung tissue was eaten up. After a few minutes of coughing and dry heaving, Neil let his head thud against the cushions, completely exhausted and wheezing even more than in his sleep.

“Morning,” Andrew gritted out, trying to hide his anger and fear and pain from his voice. It wouldn’t be fair. “Tea?”

Neil only nodded, still to weak for an answer. Andrew got out of bed and walked into their kitchen, filling a mug with Neil’s favorite - Andrew had never thought that this could be a thing - tea and trotted back into the bedroom, opening the window to get some fresh air into the sticky room. Neil always liked the first fresh breezes, especially since he had to quit his morning runs for good. Andrew had recognized that it had been one of the hardest parts for Neil. His life had consisted of running and now he would never do it again.

“You slept good?” Neil asked, voice still a bit hoarse but much better than after waking up, holding his hand out for the mug and slowly taking two sips before setting it down on the nightstand.

“A bit,” Andrew gave back, feeling that today for sure was a bad day where the void in his chest carved him out, carved all warmth out of his body, leaving nothing but cold behind, but it wasn’t fair and he didn’t know how many times he would wake up to Neil doing boring small talk so he added “your stupid catcalls kept within reasonable limits for once.” Neil’s brief smile was worth the pretence.

Usually, he’d go out on the balcony and smoke but he’d stopped once Neil couldn’t take the smell anymore. Andrew didn’t know if Neil couldn’t stand it because it reminded him of his dying mother or because it made him nauseous, but Andrew didn’t care and he didn’t ask.

“I get us breakfast,” Neil said, pushing back the sheets, all stupid as he was.

“You’re getting us nothing. Stay in bed, I’ll get us breakfast.”

“I spent the last four days in bed, Drew, I want to get up, shower and make breakfast for us.”

 _Stupid Junkie._ Andrew huffed but still helped Neil out of the bed, out of his sticky clothes and into the shower, washing him more gently than he’d used to when Neil hadn’t been a complete wreck. Andrew let his hands wander over Neil’s poignant rib cage and hip bones, almost all abs he used to have fainted by now. His whole body was smooth, all hair still gone from the treatment. He almost looked like a child with his five foot three, slender, hairless body reminding Andrew of the sheer power this fucking cancer had over Neil’s always athletic body.

“Hey, Drew,” Neil startled him out of his thoughts once more, tilting Andrew’s chin up with his hand, eyes so, so soft. “I’m still here, you know? I’m still here and maybe I’m not fine, but I’m still here and you’re still here and all we had is more than we ever thought we’d get so could you just let us live a bit longer?” The pain in his voice was evident, but Andrew knew that objecting wouldn’t change a thing so he nodded and got out of his squat, cupping Neil’s cheek and pulling him into a gentle kiss.

He didn’t know how long he would stand this, knew that he had to, yes, but didn’t know how much strength he’d have to cope with all this. Neil would leave him soon and there was nothing he could do about it that all he considered life would get erased in a few weeks, leaving behind two cats and a widower. _Widower_ . _Till death do us part_ . If he’d known that death was just a glimpse away when he’d given Neil this promise- he’d still said _I do_.

“I love you, Drew,” Neil whispered against Andrew’s lips when he pulled away. It was enough to push Andrew over the edge, the lump in his throat almost suffocating him.

He had to get out of here, out of this shower, this bath. Instead he said “I still hate you” not meaning it at all, meaning the contrary and Neil knew because it showed in Neil’s eyes when he looked into them, letting them pull him into the ocean.

„I know,“ Neil whispered back, leaving a trail of kisses on Andrew’s neck before digging his teeth into Andrew’s pale skin, sending a shiver down his spine right into his loins. His burgeoning arousal left him nauseous, almost ashamed and disgusted although Bee had assured him that this was okay. That it was valid to feel attracted to Neil, to feel aroused by his touch, but Andrew hated it. Neil, however, seemed to like it, murmuring a barely audible “yes or no” into Andrew’s neck as his hands trailed along his flanks down to his waist.

“Yes, Junkie,” Andrew answered, his jaw and body tense as Neil started to jerk him off. When he came, he didn’t feel as relieved as he used to, but still pushed Neil gently against the tiles, pulling him into another deep kiss before he stepped out of the shower and got a set of soft towels to dry them both. When he’d gotten Neil dressed in jeans and a shirt - Neil insisted on being dressed in normal clothes - he helped him with the oxygen device and watched him make breakfast.

Of course he had to make pancakes because Andrew liked pancakes and Neil, the sap, loved it when Andrew liked things. When the spatula fell to the floor, Andrew rushed from the counter to the stove, picking it up before Neil could have even bent down, but ignored to take over the rest of the cooking.

Neil ate a single pancake with some strawberries, less than Andrew wanted to approve of, but at least he ate something at all, so he let it slip.

“Can we go on a walk? Later, I mean, just to the park?”

“You sure you’re up to this today?”

Neil seemed to think about it for a moment before he nodded and got up to put the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Then we’ll go,” Andrew said, walking into the hallway to prepare the wheelchair Neil hated, but needed anyway.

~~~~~~

After Neil had napped for another two hours on the sofa, both cats in his lap and his head in Andrew’s, Andrew helped him into his jacket and out of the house, walking him to the small park near their house.

Neil refused to sit in the wheelchair, for now, and ambulated through the park, accepting Andrew’s steadying arm around his waist. After a while of walking in silence, they sat down on a bench, Neil evidently exhausted, his chest heaving. He fed a squirrel that approached, smiling as it accepted the grains he held out with his hand, while the water of the pond glistened from the sun.

“That’s the worst, you know,” Neil said quietly, letting his gaze wonder to the water. “It’s not that I have to - go, it’s that I have to leave you behind. It’s knowing that I’ll probably never do this again, sitting on a bench, with you and sun and squirrels and-” Andrew watched Neil sigh, his body carving in as he hid his face in his hands. The sob was muffled first and then broken by another cough attack, leaving bloody stains on Neil’s sleeve.

“Hey,” Andrew just responded, letting his cold hand rest on Neil’s sweaty neck, still able to steady him in a panic attack after all these years. “Neil, breathe.” It was almost mocking, demanding breathing when it was the cause for the panic in the first place, but Neil gave in anyway and tried to come back to a normal breathing rhythm.

They sat for another hour, watching birds and squirrels and the small circles Andrew evoked by throwing pebbles into the pond, growing and growing until they reached the brink - a small thing causing a huge dynamic in the way small words like _yes, it’s always yes with you_ or _I do_ or _I trust you_ caused a storm in Andrew’s chest.

“Andrew?”

“What, Neil?” It came out harsher than he intended to.

“I want a promise.”

Andrew looked into Neil’s eyes that brimmed with determination.

“I want you to promise me that when I’m gone-”

“We’re not heaving that talk now, Josten. Not now. Not tomorrow. This-” he indicated between their chests “isn’t over yet and you’re here, remember?”

“Drew, I know that I’m still here, but I need this. Now.” Andrew could see that Neil was meaning it. “Promise me that when I’m gone, you’ll come back to this place and watch the sunset and feed the squirrels and pet Sir and King and that you’ll travel to all the places I wanted to see with you. That you’ll eat the fucking vegetables and not only tons of ice cream. Promise me that you’ll live. For me.”

Andrew’s teeth grated against each other and for the first time in years he wanted to cut his skin open, wanted to let all his emotions burst through, wanted to show Neil what he was feeling, wanted to scream and cry, but he couldn’t. “Josten, stop. You know that this is not fair. I hate you, Josten. I hate you and most of the time I wish I had never met you.” He got up and carried Neil into the wheelchair, pushing him back to the house, no other word needed. Neil knew that Andrew would because he couldn’t say no to Neil. He’d live up to his promise, stick around as long as he would need to until he could let go himself.

~~~~~~

Stubborn as Neil was, he didn’t only want to make breakfast but also dinner. Everything went fine until he had to cough and cut his hand, a small pond of blood gushing out of the wound.

“Fuck, Drew, can you get a band-aid.”

“What happened?” Andrew asked, his voice definitely not hiding his anger this time. He hated Neil’s stubbornness.

“I cut my hand, shit. Could you get it?” Neil’s voice seemed no less edgy than Andrew’s now, but Andrew knew that it wasn’t because of him, but because of Neil hating himself for becoming weaker. He took a band-aid and put it over the disinfected wound, guiding Neil to the sofa.

“No,” Neil said as Andrew tried to tug him on his wrist. A lot of time had passed since Neil had uttered a _no_ to anything and yet Andrew reacted immediately, letting go of Neil’s wrist.

“What?”

“Stop it, Andrew!” Neil had never yelled at him before and Andrew almost flinched at the sound. “Stop it! Stop treating me like that! I know that I’m dying, you don’t have to remind me every single fucking day anew. Don’t you think that I know that I shouldn’t do this? Don’t you think that I am aware of how fucking exhausting this is. This, Andrew, is everything I have left of what was mine, what was my life. I know that I’ll croak, that I’ll choke, but not yet, Andrew, not yet, so leave me the fuck alone in the kitchen making dinner for my husband as long as I can bear to stand, will you? I’m not dead, yet!”

Andrew couldn’t do more than stare as he watched Neil pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and stormed back to the stove, going back to cutting the vegetables, replacing the blood-stained knife with a new one.

Andrew went onto the terrace, pulling out a cigarette with shaky hands. The smoke was soothing and he asked himself why the hell it weren’t his lungs that got eaten up by cancer. He kept smoking until Neil called him in for dinner.

~~~~~~

„I‘m sorry.“ Neil lay next to him under the sheets, the familiar sound of flowing oxygen ever present, the bedroom filled with darkness and the pale grey of moonlight. „I didn’t mean to yell at you.“

„Stop apologizing,“ Andrew said flatly, his eyes still pinned onto the ceiling where they had rested for the last hour.

„I want to. It’s not fair. I know you mean well and it’s unfair because you quitted living your life for me and you don’t deserve this.“ He gasped for air, a side effect of speaking too many dumb words at a too quick pace.

„Neil, look at me,“ Andrew demanded, pushing himself onto his side, watching Neil intently. Neil obeyed but didn’t turn around completely, just let his head fall to Andrew’s side. „Stop giving me this bullshit. I didn’t quit my life, Josten, and I know by now that your learning curve is a horizontal line so I’ll say it out loud. You - are - my - life. Without you I most likely would be some hobo by now, drunk all day waiting for my last day to come. Or someone would have killed me in jail already. So shut the fuck up if all you have to offer is this bullshit.”

Neil stared at him for a moment before he rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Why? Why me?”

“Because you’re a fox and we never get what we want.”

“That’s not what I mean, Drew. Why do you stick with me?”

“You were always trouble. Nothing changed.” _A lot changed. I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone and now you’re leaving and you idiot make me stay._ “For good and for worse. You agreed. I agreed. This is how this works.”

“You could leave an-“ Andrew put a hand over Neil’s mouth, stopping him from wasting more oxygen on stupid stuff that didn’t come from Neil Josten.

“Neil, only you, again you, always you!  
You, you, _you_. I don’t say things I don’t mean. Should know that by now. Yes or no?” He cupped Neil’s cheek and propped himself onto his elbow, leaning in but leaving enough space for Neil to recoil, but Neil didn’t so Andrew kissed him, leaving enough pauses for Neil to breathe every now and then.

They kissed for what felt like an eternity and Andrew wouldn’t have minded if this would have been it. Never waking up again, him and Neil gone for good, trapped in an endless circle of kissing and breathing.

When a tear rolled over Andrew’s finger, he pulled away and looked at this blue-eyed dumbass - _his_ blue-eyed dumbass - missing that there were no curls left he could have raked his fingers through. Neil clearly got it that Andrew would leave this uncommented.

“I’m scared,” Neil said after a minute, his voice cracked, more tears streaming down his flushed face now. “I’m so scared, Drew. I’m not thinking that I’ll end up anywhere and I know I won’t feel a thing after this is over, but I don’t want to feel it, Drew. Don’t let me feel it.”

Andrew swallowed down his tears, letting his lips catch another one that found its way down Neil’s cheek. He pulled him into his chest, steadying his face against his body, letting all of his warmth seep so Neil could feel it, soak it up. Andrew used to be the ever freezing one. How things changed. “I won’t, Neil, I won’t. I promise.”

He knew that he meant more than this. That this wasn’t just about letting Neil sleep deeply while he choked, that it was more than promising that he’d still be by his side then. This was a promise to everything Neil had demanded today and Andrew would live up to every single one.

As Neil’s breathing slowly evened out, Andrew letting his nails brush over Neil’s bald scalp, he felt his own tension subside. Right before Neil reached his breathing rhythm to sleep, Andrew heard him say “I love you, Drew. I’ll always do. Only you, again you, always you! You, you, _you_.”

“I love you, Neil. I’ll always do. Only you, again you, always you! You, you, _you_.”

He felt Neil smile against his chest and he hated his eidetic memory for providing the scene of their wedding day, Neil in this way too tight and gorgeous charcoal tuxedo, saying this vow with wet eyes, smiling as Andrew reciprocated this vow. Another promise. The most important one. He’d never been more sure of living up to one than to this. Andrew closed his eyes and let sleep pull him into a soft dream. He could continue worrying tomorrow. For now, Neil wasn’t dead, yet.

**Author's Note:**

> The vow is part of a German work by Martin Buber. I translated it and it fits.  
> As always: If you want to talk about this, hmu on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iknowwhoyouaredamianos)


End file.
